


seasons change but people don't (i'll always be waiting in the backroom)

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, bite-sized angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: They remember each other in dreams.a reincarnation au for jeronica week 2018





	1. soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> I'm weak and I don't even care. Enjoy!

Veronica wakes up with her stomach twisting into knots. Her heart is pounding and her forehead is drenched with sweat. She had her first memory. Her first moment of remembrance. She knew that this would happen. That the closer she got to her eighteenth birthday, the more memories would surface. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s scared out of her mind. 

Because her memories aren’t of Archie Andrews. They aren’t of red hair and brown eyes. They’re of jet black hair that matches her own. Stormy blue eyes that she already knows. Callused hands that have never touched her in this life. Her phone beeps from her side table and she’s already sure of who it is. 

**Jughead says We need to talk.**

**Veronica says No shit.**

**Jughead says Meet me by Sweetwater in an hour?**

**Veronica says Or you could come pick me up. No car, remember?**

**Jughead says Fine. I’m using the bike.**

**Veronica says Ugh.**

**Jughead likes Ugh.**

She meets him outside of the Pembrooke, wearing jeans for the first time in almost a year. He hands her Betty’s helmet which she takes without comment. They don’t say anything as she climbs onto the back of the bike. He slides her hands around his waist, making sure that she’s holding on tight before roaring away. The ride to the river is a short one and the roaring of the wind makes it easy to turn her brain off.

“So,” Jughead says as soon as he turns off the bike. She lets go of him and climbs off, dropping the helmet on the seat. “The dreams started for you, too?”

“Obviously, Forsythe,” Veronica says. She’s being mean but she doesn’t really care. Not today. “Why else would I be here?”

“It doesn’t have to change anything,” he says with a shrug, swapping his helmet for his beanie. “We’re with other people. We’re in love with other people.”

“We both know it doesn’t work that way,” Veronica says. She scrapes her hair back from her forehead and closes her eyes. “My mom was dating Fred Andrews when her dreams started.”

“That explains their whole affair or whatever,” Jughead mutters with a nod. “Do you know how long they lasted? Once the dreams started.”

“I didn’t exactly ask for all of the details,” Veronica says, looking at him. He’s staring out at Sweetwater River and she knows that he’s thinking about Betty. “I just know that they didn’t last. It was an expiration date on their relationship.” 

“Is that what’s happening then? We’re putting an expiration date on Varchie and Bughead?” Jughead asks. 

“I hate those stupid names,” Veronica mutters, ignoring his question. It’s not like she has an answer anyways. 

“Don’t avoid the question, Veronica,” Jughead replies. He finally looks at her and the sorrow on his face knocks the breath out of her. She wraps her arms around her waist, trying to hold it all in. Of course he’s heartbroken that it isn’t Betty. Why wouldn’t he be?

“I can’t make that decision for you, Jughead,” Veronica says softly. She’s not sure how it’s possible but his face drops even more. She reaches out to touch his forearm but he jerks away from her at the last second. It fucking hurts. “I won’t hold it against you. If you want to stay with Betty.”

“I love her,” he says. 

“I know,” Veronica replies. And she does. Of course she does. The entire town of Riverdale knows that Jughead Jones loves Betty Cooper. 

“And Archie?” he asks after a long minute of silence. Veronica takes a deep breath and turns away from his knowing stare. He takes that for the answer it’s supposed to be. “Right.”

“Archie is staying here in the fall,” Veronica says slowly. “We already have an expiration date.”

“Is this going to speed that up?” he asks and Veronica shrugs. “We need to figure out what to do, Veronica.”

“Do we?” she asks. She turns back to him and tries to keep her voice even. “Do we need to do anything at all? They’re just dreams right now. We can ignore dreams.”

“Not forever though,” he says because he just loves to be difficult. “We can’t just ignore it forever.”

“We can certainly try,” she says as she crosses her arms and leans against the motorcycle. Her shoulder brushes his and all she can think about for a second is that point of contact. She hears him inhale sharply and she wonders if he’s thinking about it too. “Don’t worry, Torombolo. It’ll all work out in the end. You’ll see.”


	2. back in time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next part! Thanks for the love!

The memories can’t be ignored. They won’t be. They're always there to greet him when he falls asleep. 

Flashes of black hair against a white pillow. Soft hands cupping his cheek. The taste of her mouth. The sound of her laugh. 

The lives where he never finds her. The ones where he finds her and loses her. The ones where they find each other too late. 

They all slip through his mind, cluttering his thoughts. So, he writes them down. He does what he does best. He tells their story. 

***

His hands cupped her face, fingers rubbing back and forth over her cheeks. She smiled, soft and sweet. He tried to frame the image in his mind, tried to memorize every detail of her face. He knew he would see it again in his dreams but he wanted to memorize it anyways, wanted to mark the little details that were unique to this life. 

“Do you have to go?” she whispered. She looked at him heavy-lidded, eyes travelling his face like she too was memorizing it. “Can’t we have just one more night?” 

“I’ll write to you. Every day,” Jughead said, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Letters won’t keep me warm at night, Jug,” she said. He could feel each syllable against his mouth, the little puffs of her breath sweet with the mint leaves she always chewed. “They won’t hold me or kiss me.” 

He closed his eyes and sighed against her mouth, kissing her gently. She pressed her palms to his chest and he covered one hand with his own. He rubbed his thumb over the simple silver wedding band and shivered. He tried to sound convincing when he said, “Veronica, I will come home to you. This fight will be over in a few months. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jug,” she said. He could hear the unshed tears and it broke his heart. “We both know that war does nothing but kill boys like you.”

He didn’t say anything, just leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. She sighed into his mouth and clung to his uniform. He slid his hands into her hair, pulling the pins free so that he could tangle his fingers into her black curls. He could taste salt on their lips and he wasn’t sure if it was from him or her. 

Jughead forced himself to pull away from her. He turned on his heel, grabbed his pack, and jogged to catch up with the rest of the troops. He looked over his shoulder as he walked out of town. Veronica stood on the hill watching him walk away. Her hands were limp at her sides and he imagined he could see the shine of tears on her cheeks. 

***

**Veronica says What happened? After you left for the war?**

He knows which one she’s talking about. It’s only been a few days after all and he knows how the ones where they lose each other can haunt. It’s not the first time that they’ve checked in with each other. He doubts that this will be the last time either.

**Jughead says Powder wagon blew up while I was on it.**

He doesn’t see the point in sugar coating it. It’s in the past. She deserves to know. 

**Jughead says What happened to you?**

Enough time passes that he thinks she’s not going to answer. 

**Veronica says When your letters stopped, I left. Moved north to be with my sister. Died from consumption.**

**Jughead says You got my letters?**

**Veronica says Every one. I always wrote back. Guess you never got them.**

**Jughead says No. I didn’t.**

**Veronica says Makes you really appreciate our modern conveniences.**


	3. famous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. I don't know what I'm doing with this but it's legit a challenge in brevity for me. Hope you all are enjoying it despite how short it is. :)

The day of her eighteenth birthday, Veronica doesn’t feel like celebrating. 

She lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She knows that there’s a huge birthday breakfast being set out on the dining room table. And there’s supposed to be a spa afternoon with Betty and then the party that Archie planned. And she’s not in the mood for any of it. 

She blindly reaches for her phone and calls Jughead. It’s a bad habit that she’s gotten into. Calling or texting him first thing in the morning but it’s usually the only way she can get the memories out of her head. 

“Veronica?” he answers. She hadn’t even checked the time. It’s probably way too early for him to even be awake. 

“How do you deal with the ones where we don’t find each other?” she asks without saying hello. What’s the point? They both know why she’s calling. 

“It’s just one life out of a infinite number of lives,” Jughead says. It’s so automatic that she wonders how many times he had to give himself the same advice. “In the end, those don’t matter as much.” 

“Right,” she says. She doesn’t feel better. She still feels the aching loneliness that permeated every inch of her dream. 

“What happened?” he asks because that’s what they do. 

“I was a dancer,” she says softly. “A blonde-hair, blue-eyed prima ballerina. I don’t think I even remembered you in that one. But I felt your absence. I felt it and it hurt. It still hurts.”

“Veronica,” he says softly and she knows what he’s going to say. They’ve talked about it. Giving them a chance. Letting the memories fully form. It always ends the same. She’s learning not to expect anything else from him. 

“The  _ Kirov Ballet _ and I was it’s star,” she goes on, trying to sound light and airy. “It was the 30s. Where - do you know where you were?”

“I was there,” he says softly. Her throat closes up and her vision blurs. “St. Petersburg in the 30s. I was there.”

“What?” Veronica manages to croak out. 

“I never saw you dance,” he says. “I could never afford that but I knew you were there. I saw your posters and read the articles about you. I knew you. So. You weren’t alone. I found you.”

“You did?” she asks and it’s shaky. So fucking shaky. There are already tears running down her face and the loneliness that had felt so bone deep lessens a little. 

“Of course,” he says and she believes him. It's a bittersweet feeling that she revels in. “I’ll always find you, Veronica.” 

“Don’t say things like that,” she whispers. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says and she doesn’t know if he actually means it. “I don’t mean to make it harder.”

“I know,” she says and laughs a little. Even she can hear how false it sounds. “I’m just being dramatic. Per the ush.” 

“It's always rough. The next day,” he mutters and she nods even though he can’t see her. “You’ve listened to me.” 

“Right,” she says. She takes a deep breath. “Of course. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he replies. A moment of silence passes. “Happy birthday, Veronica.”


	4. partners in crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motherfucking caught uuuuuuuuuuup.

“It’s very simple,” he said as he walked across the bank lobby. His hands clenched the shotgun in his hands but he felt calm, confident. “Do as I say and no one gets hurt.”

“Isn’t that a bit cliche?” Veronica asked in his ear. He tried not to roll his eyes. “I mean. Isn’t that already implied? Considering you have a gun and they don’t.”

He didn’t say anything back. He couldn’t without seeming crazy and the crazy-bit rarely worked in bank heists. He turned to the camera in the corner and raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe stop making eyes at the camera and finish the job?” Veronica huffed through the earpiece. He nodded once and turned around to smile at the bank tellers.

“I’m not here to hurt anybody,” he continued to them. “I just want the vault open. Do that and this will be over before you know it. Gentlemen?”

The two goons they had hired stepped forward pistols at the ready.

“My companions here are going to keep watch while I and a plucky volunteer open the vault,” Jughead said. He waited patiently before a red headed man stepped forward, hand raised. “Alright, Mr?”

“Stanford,” the man said, puffing his chest up. “James Stanford and I want your word that no one will be hurt.”

“My most solemn vow,” Jughead said with a tilt of his head. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Stanford turned on a heel and headed towards the back of the bank. Jughead looked over his shoulder at the camera and waves two fingers.

“Eyes on the prize, Jones,” Veronica singsonged in his ear. “You’re not done yet.”

He raised his eyebrows as if to say _sure thing, boss._

“Asshole,” she muttered.

The walk to the vault was short and sweet. Mr. Stanford behaved himself and opened the lock with a quick flick of his wrist, fingers gripping the dial. Jughead stepped inside with a satisfied sigh. He inspected the lock boxes until he found the numbers he was looking for.

He was pulling the first one free, shotgun resting at his feet, when Veronica cursed into his ear, “Shit. Someone tripped an alarm or something. There’s chatter on the radio. You have five minutes to get out of there.”

“Goddammit,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked down at the lockbox in his hands, quickly putting it down. He picked up the shot gun. “Mr. Stanford, I need a bag. Immediately.”

He turned to the redhead and pointed the barrel at his chest, “We’re on a time crunch, Mr. Stanford. So, if you’d hurry.”

The redhead rushing around the corner before darting back. He had two cloth bags that Jughead grabbed with little inspection. He held the shotgun under his arm and managed to fit two lock boxes in each bag. He barely held onto the bags as he hauled ass to the back entrance.

“Goddammit, Forsythe, move your ass!” Veronica shouted in his ear. “I hear the damn sirens!”

A litany of fucks poured from Jughead’s mouth as he burst through the door. A police car pulled up in front of him as he bolted into the street. Jughead dropped the bags to brace himself as he fired the shot gun. A burst of red stained the officer’s chest.

“Jughead!” Veronica screamed in his ear as the second cop fired from the passenger side of the car. Jughead felt the impact of the bullet in his chest. Veronica was still screaming in his ear. He couldn’t hear it.

***

Jughead stares at his laptop, rereading his latest memory. He absent-mindedly rubs at his chest, right at the spot where he was shot. He swears he can feel the wound all of the sudden. He reaches for his coffee mug and is taking a sip when Veronica slides into the booth across from him. He slowly lowers his mug and raises his eyebrows, “Hey.”

“Did you tell Betty?” Veronica asks. Her mouth is pressed into a thin mouth and she is furious. Jughead can practically see the anger radiating off of her in waves. “Jughead!”

“No!” he snaps. The memory flashes through his mind. Her voice screaming in his ear.  “God, of course not.”

“Then why did she just give me the third degree about my relationship with you?” Veronica hisses, leaning forward.

“She did what?” he asks.

“She showed up at the Pembroke harassing me about _you,_ ” she says, waving a hand at him.

“What do you mean harassing you?” he asks, leaning forward.

“She knew things, Jug,” Veronica says, calming down slightly. “About our past lives. About who we used to be. She knows.”

He looks down at his laptop with wide eyes. There’s no way. She wouldn’t look through his laptop without asking. But then again. He’s never had anything to hide on his laptop. Not from Betty. Except this.

“I might have started writing them down,” he says slowly. Veronica groans and leans back, covering her eyes. “I’m a writer. It’s what I do.”

“Well,” Veronica says. She slides back out of the booth and looks down at him. “You have a girlfriend to deal with. I’m going home.”

“Wait,” he says, hand reaching out to her. He has to talk to her about it. He knows that he needs to talk to Betty. He knows that but he can’t carry these thoughts by himself. “The bank heist.”

“Call me after,” she says after a moment. Her face softens and she half reaches for his hand. She must remember herself because she jerks her hand back before touching him. He doesn’t know if it's him or the echo of his past selves that’s disappointed.


	5. reverse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm being reeeeeeaaaaaaally liberal with today's theme. Cause I can. But ANGST.

Veronica reaches for the TV remote, muting it to make sure she actually heard a knock on the door. She isn’t expecting anyone and both of her parents are off doing who knew what. The last thing she feels like dealing with is another ambush by Betty. It’s been days since then - days since she’s seen Jughead and it’s been okay. 

**Jughead says Open the door, Veronica.**

She sighs and stands up, heading to the front door. Jughead is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and mouth in a deep frown. His hair is all over the place like he’s  been tugging on it - beanie nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t wait for an invitation before walking past her into the apartment. She’s left staring at his back as he marches to the kitchen. 

He’s never been here before. Never. It makes her heart swan dive into her stomach. She closes the door and follows after him calling his name. He’s chugging a beer when she enters the kitchen. Veronica crosses her arms as she waits for him to finish. 

“So?” she asks, raising her eyebrow. He doesn’t look at her, just stares down at the counter. His knuckles are white from gripping the stem of the bottle so tightly. “Jughead?” 

“Betty dumped me,” he says softly. Veronica delfates slightly. She’s not surprised. Veronica knew it was only a matter of time until she found out. Only a matter of time before things ended. Expiration date, indeed. “She didn’t listen when I said I loved her - only her. She just. Couldn’t do it, apparently.”

“You can’t blame her,” Veronica says with a sigh. She leans against the counter, the edge digging into her lower back. 

“Well, Archie knows too,” he says and there’s a bitterness in his voice that Veronica recognizes instantly. At least she knows who is comforting Betty right now. “So, have fun with that.”

“He knew I was starting to get the memories,” Veronica says with a casual shrug. It barely reflects the swirl of emotions that she’s feeling but it’s easier to play it casual. “At least now he knows for sure who it is.”

“You sound pretty calm about this friend-pocalypse,” Jughead says, reaching into the fridge for another beer. She’s half-tempted to stop him. He’ll regret it later. 

“It wasn’t me who wanted to keep secrets. Or have you forgotten that little conversation?” Veronica replies with an easy smile. He grips the counter and clenches his jaw. She can see the muscle twitching under his eye and sighs. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I know this can’t be easy.”

“Are you, Veronica?” he says. She steps back from him, from the anger that he’s directing her way now. “I mean, now there’s nothing standing in the way of your fairytale romance?”

“Excuse me?” she asks, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. 

“I mean, that’s what all the phone calls were about, right?” he says, turning to her. “The phone calls and the text messages. Well, congratulations. I came to you this time.”

“You are such an asshole, Jones,” she says with a disbelieving laugh. She snatches the beer from his hand and pours it down the sink. “You can leave now. This pity party is over.”

“Veronica,” he says, dropping his chin into his chest. He sighs and finally looks at her. “That was. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she replies. She leaves the bottle in the sink and leaves the kitchen. Jughead follows after her and she knows that he wants to say something else. Veronica spins around on her heel and turns to face him. He opens his mouth and she holds her hand up. “I never wanted some grand romance from you. Ever.”

“I know that,” he starts but she cuts him off. 

“No. You get to listen,” she says, poking him in the chest. “I’m sorry the universe didn’t give you Betty fucking Cooper as your soulmate. I am but you do not get to throw that shit back in my face, okay? I came to you out of trust and some stupid attempt at being your friend. I thought you needed it just as badly as I did.”

Veronica takes a moment to collect herself, mouth pressed tight into a thin line. Jughead is staring at her with wide eyes. He almost looks frightened at her outburst. Which is ridiculous. She’s on the verge of tears and it’s fucking embarrassing. There is nothing scary about her right now. She’s reaching up to wipe at her eyes when Jughead grabs her wrist and drags her forward. She barely has time to react before he’s cupping her cheek and kissing her softly on the mouth.  

She kisses him back for barely a second, her lip gloss causing their lips to stick together as she pulls away. Veronica pushes him away from her gently and turns towards the front door. She holds it open for him, “You should really go, Jughead.”

“Veronica,” he says and he looks so damn lost. “Was. Was I wrong - was that the wrong thing to do?”

“You just broke up with Betty,” Veronica says with a soft sigh. She wipes at her cheeks, flicking away the few tears that have slipped free.  “You just broke up with Betty and you don’t love me, Jug. Not. Not the way I want you to. So. You should go.”

His shoulders drop and he looks dumbfounded by her small confession. She doesn’t say anything else. There isn’t anything to say right now. He slips out the door without looking at her. And it’s fine. 


	6. new york

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. 
> 
> It's 3:26 AM.

He hunched his shoulders up around his ears, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket against the cold. The wind was relentless and the winter storm they’d been wanted of seemed to be upon them.

He hurried up the steps and pounded on the red door. The madam of the house opened it with a knowing smirk. He ignored her and went to the backroom. The lights were low and the smell of cigar smoke filled the air. 

Jughead narrowed his eyes and searched the room for her familiar frame. She narrowed her eyes at him across the dim room before jerking her chin towards an empty table on the corner. He had no illusions that she’s happy to see him. He knew that it was quite the opposite in fact. 

Veronica made her way across the room, pausing occasionally to speak to the odd customer. By the time she stood in front of his table, Jughead was a nervous wreck. 

“I thought I asked ye not to come round here again,” Veronica said softly as she wiped his table down. “I’m a married woman, Jughead Jones.”

“I have no intention of stealing you away from all of this,” Jughead said, waving a gloved hand at the room. Veronica rolled her eyes but he could see the corner of her mouth lift up a bit. “Can’t a man want a warm drink on a cold night?”

“It’s more than a warm drink you’re looking for, Mr. Jones,” Veronica said. She raised her eyebrow at him and walked away. He watches the sway of her hips and sighed. He was a man condemned. That much was for sure. 

***

“Do you miss New York?” he asks her late one night on the phone. Veronica is still mad at him for kissing her. But she’s not so cruel as to deny him the comfort of her voice after a dream. “Like living there?”

“Jughead,” she says with a patient sigh. “I haven’t lived in New York in years. It's like a different life.”

“I wanted to take you there,” he says softly. He doesn’t give her time to say anything. He plunges forward “When we were in Boston. I wanted to steal you away from that tavern and your husband. Take you to New York. Start something new.”

“I don’t,” she say softly. She clears her throat. He can practically see her nervous tick of tucking her hair behind her ear. “I don’t really remember that one. It’s fuzzy.”

“We can make new memories,” he practically whispers into the phone. “You and me. In New York. Or. Or here. Wherever.”

“Jughead,” she whines. 

“Just,” he says, cutting her off. “Meet me at Pop’s? Don’t. I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “Give me twenty minutes.”


	7. pop's chock-lit shoppe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late but it's done and it might have gone a little schmoopy there at the end but whatever. CUTE THINGS HAPPEN AND THEY DESERVE ALL THE CUTENESS.

They’re the only ones inside as she slides into the booth across from Jughead. He doesn’t have his hat again and she wonders if he’s finally growing out of it. He doesn’t look at her. Not at first. But she’s not exactly eager for this conversation so she doesn’t push him.

She orders a milkshake and a plate of fries. She taps her nails against the table, patience slowly running out. The waitress brings Veronica her milkshake and she’s biting off the cherry when Jughead finally speaks, “I’m going to NYU in the fall. I know you are, too.”

“Your point?” she asks after a second. She swallows the cherry and occupies herself with her milkshake. “It’s a big city, Jughead.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean we can’t see each other,” he says. He slides her milkshake out of the way and reaches a hand out to her. She lets him curl their fingers together.

“You didn’t want me, Jughead,” she says, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “You get dumped and that changes all of the sudden?”

He flinches a little and leans back. He tries to pull his hand from hers but she wiggles her fingers in between his and holds on tight. He stares at their hands and sighs, “I’m sorry. For what happened at your place. That wasn’t. That wasn’t fair of me.”

“Why did you do it, Jug?” she asks. She takes a deep breath and looks at him through her lashes. “Why did you kiss me? Was it to get over Betty? Or because you wanted to kiss _me_?”

“It was you,” he says softly. He squeezes her hand slightly. “I wanted to be kissing you.”

“Because of the dreams?” she asks because she can’t help it. She has to know.

“At first,” he says with a shrug. She can’t blame him for that. “I know we said we wouldn’t change. We wouldn’t let it change things.”

“Kind of hard not to,” she says with a nod. She tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Remembering you. Like that. It’s hard to ignore.”

“I don’t want to ignore it anymore,” he says slowly. He’s staring at her with those blue eyes and she can feel it go straight through her. “I can’t.”

“But you love Betty,” she says. “It’s barely been a month since you two broke up.”

“So, we can’t be friends?” he asks. “Or whatever it is we are. Or turning into. You’re just going to discount this summer? Everything we’ve shared?”

Veronica swallows the lump in her throat and looks away. Jughead lets go of her hand and she barely starts to feel disappointed before he’s sliding into the seat next to her. He cups her face in his hands and the moment seems to slow down. He scans her face and it's a deja vu moment. Except there is no war and they’re Jughead and Veronica, not a poor farming couple who won’t survive the next year.

“I know what I said when we first found out. What we both said,” he says. He rubs his thumb over her cheek and she tilts her head into his palm. She reaches up and grabs his wrists, holding on tight. “And to be honest, Lodge. It was all bullshit. I don’t know what’s going to happen in New York. If anything, living in Riverdale has taught me that I really don’t know shit. But I know you or I’m starting to and I don’t want to stop.”

Veronica doesn’t think before she’s leaning up and kissing him softly. He sighs into her mouth and slides a hand into her hair. She clutches the lapel of his jacket and scoots closer to him. The kiss seems to last forever but it’s still gentle and slow. By the time he pulls away from her, they’re both panting and flushed. His hair tickles her forehead and Jughead leans in to steal another quick kiss.

“I want to know you too,” she says softly. They’re still so close that she can feel his breath on her lips. “We’ll take our time. Make new memories. Together.”

“Together. Yeah,” he murmurs before kissing her again.


End file.
